


Silent Colours

by chunni



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blind Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson Has a Crush on Bruce Wayne, Hurt, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chunni/pseuds/chunni
Summary: Bruce bit back a sigh, bit back the urge to claw at those aching scars around his eyes, and let his mind silently weep for a time when he could have easily opened the lids of his eyes.Opened his lids and see.
Relationships: Batman/Robin, Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Kudos: 52





	Silent Colours

**Author's Note:**

> Hey,  
> I didn't forget about my WIPs but I had to take a break and wanted to write something short to get back into writing :)  
> As you see it's angsty Bruce/Dick (I still love this pairing with all of my heart), and I tried something different with the narrative. Tell me what you think!
> 
> (I'm no native speaker, so please feel free to point out weird sentences and wrong grammar, so I can improve)

**Silent Colours**

~

_Day 17_

The tip of the pencil made soft noises as it leaped across the paper, following the quick movements of the hand holding it. Hasty, as if in a hurry, as if running, running away maybe. Bruce frowned, lips pressed into a tight line.

 _What are you writing down?_ he couldn’t help but wonder, a silver of anger clouding his thoughts. _What could I have said that is worth noting?_

Surely, she wasn’t capable of reading his mind, was she? Surely, those few words concerning today’s weather couldn’t have been enough for her to work out his mental state, to work out how to help him.

 _Help him_.

Grinding his teeth, he tried not to snort, tried not to squirm beneath what must be a look of pity.

„Well, Mr. Wayne, I’m really... glad you’re here today. Do you have anything you want to talk about? Anything at all? You know, I’m bound by an oath of secrecy.”

He could feel her smile in the itch of his skin, could hear her breath, annoyingly calm, annoyingly loud. The thumb of his left hand twitched, last proof of the suppressed wish to rub his eyes. Suppressed because it wasn’t possible anymore, was it?

 _No, that isn’t quite right_ , a quiet voice inside him argued, but he didn’t let it grow loud.

It was right enough.

Bruce swallowed down a wave of nausea.

„There isn’t anything I feel the need to discuss,” he said. It was definite, his voice as low as he had fallen, somehow steady, somehow _strong_. Just a mask, really.

It was also a lie.

 _You’ll feel better, trust me,_ Dick had said _. Please, try it at least. One meeting, Bruce. Do it for me, if not for yourself._

Bruce had done it for him, but why?

Because he needed help? Because he wanted to _feel better_?

He didn’t believe in… _this_.

He didn’t want this.

The ringing in his ears sounded more like a never-ending scream, and, as everyone knew, a scream always seemed louder in darkness. Bruce bit back a sigh, bit back the urge to claw at those aching scars around his eyes, and let his mind silently weep for a time when he could have easily opened the lids of his eyes.

Opened his lids and _see_.

~

_Day -5_

„It’s so damn cold,” Dick mumbled, barely managing to hide the clattering of his teeth. “Tell me again, why do we need to be glued to the roof? If only I could run around a bit...” A groan dripping with frustration. “And here I’ve always thought I’d die a more heroic death...”

“You won’t die,” Bruce said, rolling his eyes despite knowing all too well of the black mask hiding half his face. “It isn’t even that cold,” he added, whispering now.

Footsteps appeared, echoing through the alley, the deep clang of solid winter boots on cold stone.

The first syllable of the word Dick had wanted to say faded away, his body visibly tense next to Bruce. Ready to fight, and, despite his complaints, focused on the task in front of them.

The night wasn’t as dark as it could have been, stars out and sparkling, an unusual experience in the reeky sink of iniquity that was Gotham City. It wasn’t dark enough to hide the man from their view as he strolled across the asphalt, just a few metres beneath their hideout. The young man with dark skin and curly hair that bore no resemblance to the criminal they were looking for.

Bruce could see Dick’s fist loosening out of the corner of his eye, drawing a deep breath himself.

“It isn’t him,” he mumbled, stating the obvious, and he wasn’t sure if he should be glad or disappointed. A jolt of wind ran across his shoulders, causing goose bumps to cling to his skin. It was getting colder indeed.

“So, we’re back to freezing our asses off, huh?” A light snicker next to him. Bruce barely managed to fight back a grin himself.

“You need to learn to be patient.”

“I can be patient just fine... I just like to get on your nerves.”

 _I know_ , Bruce thought. He didn’t say it, though, shaking his head because he shouldn’t encourage those ideas, because Dick shouldn’t know just how much he enjoyed listening to his complaints or comments or exclamations, because they meant he wasn’t alone. Alone in the dark, waiting and freezing, trying to save a place that sometimes didn’t even want to be saved.

~

_Day 1_

It was dark as Bruce came to. Thoughts were whirling through his mind like scraps of paper, small and impossible to grasp. Even if he managed to catch one or two, he might not be able to make sense of its content as it was just one piece of the puzzle.

 _It’s too hot_ , he thought, lips chapped and dry as his tongue grazed them, but in the same time he had to correct himself. It wasn’t too hot, not really, but it _had been_ , right?

 _Fire_ , his mind screamed, the word ringing through his body like a jab in the chest, and he couldn’t breathe. There were orange flames, licking at wood, dancing in the air, hiding between tendrils of deep, black smoke. There was a woman, her voice piercing the crackling of burning wood, a cry of help.

A gasp. Perhaps his own.

Bruce rose in a split-second, barely realising that he was lying in a bed, body burning and aching and itching. He opened his eyes, wanted to open his eyes, couldn’t. Something was slung across his face, blockading his view, and he didn’t want to know why that something felt like a bandage. The breath in his ears was loud, too loud. It was his own, a part of him noticed, ragged, strangled, but how could it be his own when he _couldn’t_ breathe?

_Mirrors had never been uglier._

“He’s awake! Doc, he’s awake,” a voice yelled, tired yet excited, reaching through the whirlwind of panic and stopping time for a precious moment.

A hand, sweaty and too hot, grabbed his own, the grip as firm as if trying to crush his bones. _Dick_ , Bruce thought, unable to return the touch, but thankful, deep inside. The tingling sparking through his dry throat made him cough but he didn’t let go of the hand, and he didn’t succumb to the panic. There was a memory dancing through his mind, an open question, an odd sense of shock and confusion, but he couldn’t find the strength to focus on it.

“Dick,” he ground out, the name barely more than a throaty whisper even though his heart was screaming. He wasn’t even sure if Dick had heard him.

A wave of pain made him clench his teeth, pain that came with clarity, with consciousness. Something felt off, wrong, a pounding at the back of his head he couldn’t ignore. Something that made the fine hair in his neck stand up even though he couldn’t quite pinpoint its origin yet.

There was an idea, though, quiet like the wind, and just as cold as well. It made his stomach drop just when another voice reached his ear.

“Mr. Wayne, can you hear me? You don’t need to speak, simply nod or shake your head.”

The flames were still there, Bruce noticed. Not in front of him anymore, not enclosing him, but _inside_ him. Just below his temples, across his eyebrows and... where the bandage was wrapped around his face. A prickling sensation, and something told him that it was, _must be_ , numbed by whatever they were injecting into his left arm.

Bruce almost forgot to nod, the motion sharp and short when it happened.

Dick tightened his grip just a bit more, squeezing his hand as if saying _I’m here. Whatever happens, don’t forget I’m here_.

 _You shouldn’t have to worry about me_ , flickered through Bruce’s mind. _You shouldn’t have to hold my hand, shouldn’t have to calm_ me _..._

“There’s a glass of water,” the doctor said. “Are you thirsty? Do you want to drink?”

 _Yes_ , Bruce thought. What he said, voice husky from cinder and heat, was something entirely different.

“W-what... happened to...,” a shaky breath, “...m-my eyes?”

~

_Day -1_

“You _hate_ Bruce Wayne,” Dick said, blue eyes blazing with suppressed anger. Anger that didn’t seem quite that suppressed when taking in the way he was crossing his arms, lips pursed.

“Sometimes you really don’t make sense. You talk as if there’s another Bruce Wayne I don’t know about,” Bruce mused with a half-smile, adjusting his tie with a few quick motions. “And I can assure you, I don’t hate myself.”

A click of a tongue that couldn’t belong to anyone other than Dick. “You know what I mean. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises, lazy, spoiled playboy billionaire of Gotham. That’s the one you hate. I don’t know why you want to show up as him at the auction. Why not Batman?”

Bruce felt the smile fell off his face, making way for a frown.

“With Batman and Robin looking for him that damn man has turned invisible. Perhaps Bruce Wayne’s luckier. You know he’s supposed to be there, but he won’t turn up with a bat clinging to the dark corner of the room.”

Bruce sighed. “Sometimes I think they’re able to _smell_ my cape... and disappear just before I can grasp them. It’s necessary, Dick.”

His eyes found their way to his hands, to his palms, pink lines of scars covering the calloused skin, hands that had beat up more people than other men had met in their life. Though, those hands had saved lives as well. Another sigh was waiting in his throat but he fought it back, shaking his head.

“I know... but I’d rather you wouldn’t do it alone.”

Bruce looked up to meet Dick’s unreadable gaze, eyes halfway hidden by strands of loose, black hair. His heart skipped a beat as if warning him and that gaze might as well have been the last hiss of a snake before the attack. Trying not to look as startled as he felt, Bruce raised a brow.

“If you want to say anything, do it now or I’ll be gone. I should have already been at the meeting five minutes ago.”

Dick couldn’t be truly disappointed that he hadn’t asked him to join him? He had to realise that it was the logical choice, the _safe_ choice, to go alone, to only call him in case things went awry, right? They didn’t need both of them in the lion’s den.

Dick’s eyes widened slightly, just enough to be noticeable. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, jaw clenching as if he didn’t want to talk, as if he had been caught off-guard by Bruce’s words and would have gladly taken his own back.

 _What are you hiding from me_?, Bruce couldn’t help but think, and it was no happy thought. It made him feel dizzy, bile creeping up his throat as he tried not to feel like a failure. It was an odd feeling, one he shouldn’t have because Dick was allowed to have secrets, to _not_ share every tiny bit of his daily life and thoughts with Bruce. It was alright, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

Dick’s gaze flickered away, bottom lip sucked in as if in deep thought. His right hand fidgeted with the rim of his t-shirt, the blue colour faded, the fabric worn out, one of those older shirts he mostly only slept in.

“Ah, damn it,” he mumbled just as Bruce thought the tension would get unbearable. A few minutes later he would have given most of his money to take that tension back.

“You’ve probably figured it out already, being a genius and all,” Dick said, rolling his eyes just as a light blush appeared on his cheeks, a soft pink like the morning sky. “So I might as well just say it.”

A shaky breath, and maybe that was all Dick had needed to gather enough strength to look straight into Bruce’s eyes again. When he spoke, his voice didn’t waver, didn’t betray any of the nervousness he had displayed before.

“I’m in love with you.”

Bruce could only stare at him, the air buzzing around him as if trying to drown out any words yet to be spoken. Dick’s words screamed even louder, though, calling his name, whirling through his mind like snow in summer, seemingly impossible, a glitch in the universe.

Even stranger now seemed the laughter bursting out of Dick, a chuckle that couldn’t decide if it was meant to sound amused or distressed. It was loud enough to pull Bruce out of his stupor, though.

“You... _what_?!”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, I just...” Dick inhaled slowly, shaking his head as if trying to force his body to calm down. The confident grin tugging at his lips would have been enough to deceive anyone if it weren’t for the hand rubbing his neck and the way his lips were just slightly quivering. “I’m serious, you know. I... take that as you... didn’t... know?”

A part of Bruce would have loved to grab him by his shoulders and shake him thoroughly for even considering he would... know? Know and not say anything as if those feelings were dust you could easily brush off?

_Do you think so low of me?_

“You don’t have to say anything, okay? Just, uh... maybe think about it? Or not. Just... thought you should know...I ... I’ll be in my room. Studying.”

Dick turned around slowly enough to give him plenty of time to do something, _anything_ really, but Bruce could only blink and stare and breathe with utter confusion and still didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t know it the next day either.

~

_Day 8_

There was coldness when Bruce stepped outside, leaving the stifling warmth of the hospital. Though, was it the gust of air twirling through his too-long hair or the icy weight sitting between his rips? If he had enough strength to raise his hand to his chin he would have felt the rough stopples of a beard in need of shaving.

 _Blind_.

A word he had known, of course. A word everyone knew, and everyone feared. A word like a ghost, a ghost whose shadow you might have seen in the corner of your eye, that made you shiver, that left your mouth dry until you realised that it was far away, until you realised that it couldn’t possibly harm you. Until now.

He took a deep, painful breath. His hand felt heavy as he lifted it to push the sunglasses higher up his nose, the metal cold, and that wasn’t really a surprise, was it?

Bruce looked up to where the sky must be, flickers of light sparking through the darkness that was his sky, his city, his life now. No colours anymore for him. No vibrancy, no sunsets and streetlamps, no bluish alleys and green meadows. Looking at the sun, but not feeling its warmth, not _seeing_ , not really, he found it difficult to keep walking. As if his legs weren’t sure if it was even worth the bother.

Was it?

Frowning and shivering, he pulled the coat tighter around his body. _That damn cold..._

“Alfred’s waiting for us just around the corner, so you won’t have to struggle through that awful bunch of reporters,” Dick said, voice oddly cheerful, that kind of joy shining through his words that didn’t feel quite genuine. Or maybe it was just Bruce that didn’t see it, couldn’t feel it, that strange feeling called joy. “And the sun’s smiling at us, too. That must be a good sign, right?”

For a second he considered politely asking Dick to _shut the fuck up_. It took a lot of effort not to give in to that temptation, but he swallowed hard, jaw working, and tried to remember the lessons to a calm mind he once had internalised. Odd how it took just one event to throw his whole life around, years of building something, of working and learning just falling apart like a rusty bicycle.

“If you say so...,” he muttered finally.

There was a heartbeat of silence, one of tension as well, as if Dick was expecting him to say more, to laugh or at least smile at his jokes, and that idea was only fuel to an anger that shouldn’t have existed in the first place.

Irritating, it was irritating. He was itching to run, itching to fight and move and punch and scream, but he couldn’t. Exercise had always been a good way for him to release tension and now it was, while not being impossible, at least much more difficult than before.

When Dick spoke again, it seemed as if he had wanted to say something entirely different at first.

“We could go for a walk. Later, I mean. In the afternoon maybe. The doctor said your injuries have almost completely healed.”

“I know what the doctor said, Dick!” Bruce couldn’t help but snap, teeth grinding. The stab of regret came almost immediately, a stab like a knife between the ribs. At least he wouldn’t have to see the hurt expression in Dick’s eyes.

_Well, I won’t see Dick’s eyes ever again, so why does it matter?_

He sighed. “I... alright, I’ll... go for a walk with you.”

The hand he held out for Dick to take was still heavy. Oddly enough, when fingers intertwined with his own he could hardly feel it at all.

He wasn’t sure what had made him agree and he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to go for a walk. If he didn’t prefer to lie down and hide beneath a soft blanket.

He wasn’t sure about most of the things nowadays, and a part of him was scared.

~

_Day 0_

Ironically enough, the criminal hadn’t shown up.

Bruce had played his part, always charming, always good-looking, bidding for abstract paintings and heavy furniture and laced clothing that was too expensive, and ugly to boot. Things he didn’t need but Bruce Wayne just might enjoy.

In the end, it was a malfunction of one of the cables of the lamps at the wall.

In the end, it was an accident.

She was a pretty thing, the curly hair even redder than the flames bursting out and dancing through the room in no time at all. The lipstick like roses, cheeks pink, at first as a result of flattery from rich and often elderly gentlemen, then as a result of heat and panic.

Later, he would remember every detail of her face, the dark eyes wide blown, pupils glimmering with tears, and, if you looked close enough, the fire’s raging light was residing in them as well.

Maybe it was the lack of a suit to hide in, to protect him that made him careless and rash. Maybe it was Dick’s unanswered confession floating through the far back of his mind that slowed down his mind.

Later, he would blame himself first and foremost.

Bruce managed to calm her enough to lead her away from the centre of the fire, from anguish and destruction, the sweaty forehead pressed to his chest so as not to let her breathe in too much smoke. She was gasping, sobbing, he was coughing his lungs out, despite his best efforts not to let it show how much he was fighting to stay conscious. His throat was burning just as much as the flames. Maybe even more.

“Th-thank.., she whisper-cried. “Th-thank you s-s-so... much...”

He saved her. He couldn’t save himself.

There was an ugly _clang_ , loud, too loud, a sound unlike any sound he had heard before, a sound of hell.

He turned his head despite better reasons, ears hurting, and his heart screaming a warning.

The last thing the saw was the storm of glittery shards that were flying through the room in an oddly poetic way. The shards of the mirror covering the entire wall that wasn’t covering the wall anymore. That was exploding.

Someone screamed.

~

_Day 24_

“I thought you’d be here.”

Bruce didn’t even lift his head as Dick’s voice reached his ear, unseeing eyes directed at the floor he was sitting on, and a part of him wasn’t even surprised that he had sought him out.

“Yeah? I’m glad I didn’t... disappoint your expectations,” Bruce muttered in a slow, drawn out way after a long breath. “You were right. I’m here. You can leave.”

The steps echoed through the cave like raindrops jumping off a rooftop, loud, slow in a way that made you anticipate an increase of speed. That made you muscles tense and your mind distrustful. Or maybe it was just the fact that he could only hear those steps and couldn’t see the person they belonged to, even though he knew that person well enough. _Dick_.

And he was coming closer.

It was only when there was a _thump_ close to his body, warmth radiating from that spot, the low humming of a calm heartbeat, and, finally, a familiar shoulder pressing against his own, that Bruce realised that his hands were balled to fists.

“I can’t meditate like that.”

“You’re not meditating.”

“I was... until you showed up.”

“Well...” Dick exhaled slowly, or maybe it was a sigh? Bruce could feel his muscles move as he straightened his back and for a split-second he thought Dick would stand up and leave as he had asked of him. Of course, Dick didn’t do anything like that.

“How’s therapy going? Do you think it’s helpful?”

“Hm.” Bruce forced himself to shrug. _Do you really want an answer to that question?_

“Hm yes or hm no?”

“Why do you even care? It doesn’t matter, does it? I’ve barely been there twice... do you really think...” Bruce’s lips twitched without saying anything, longing for a glass of water. His stomach was churning again, but he managed to open his hands, pressing the palms against the floor to keep them from trembling.

He lifted his head, a useless motion, an old, faded memory from before. He should have been looking into the vastness of the bat-cave, all glimmering metal and shining masks. Instead, there was blackness.

“You should go to the university again, Dick,” he said, and this time his voice was firm, serious. “Let me be, I’ll be fine. I’ve always managed things by myself, haven’t I? I bet it’s even less dangerous, now that I’m not... well.”

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

 _I don’t need your help,_ his mind murmured.

“I’ll be fine,” he repeated.

The silence was even longer than the one before, but not as tense, the air heavy but in a way that was putting you to sleep rather than crushing you.

It took him much too long to realise that the soft gasps weren’t just drops of water slipping down a distant rock and dropping into a small river. It took him even longer to realise that it was Dick making those sounds.

That they were sobs.

Bruce’s heart skipped a beat, an icy weight in his chest. He didn’t dare to move, didn’t even dare to breathe.

“Dick?”, he whispered. “Are you... all right?”

Sobs. Evident now, loud, glaring at him with eyes he didn’t need to see to feel the accusation in their gaze. Muffled then, as Dicks shoulder moved, and he was pressing a hand against his mouth wasn’t he? Rubbing his eyes maybe?

“It’s s-silly, really,” Dick mumbled then, and the quivering notes of his voice tore a hole into Bruce’s chest. “I j-just... forget it please.”

At first, there was a flicker of doubt in him but he shook it away and it was oddly easy to lift a hand, light as a feather. It was easy to lay it against Dick’s back, to draw gentle circles with his palm that he hoped were reassuring.

Dick still slightly shaking form leaned into the touch, and there was warmth, warmth spreading through Bruce’s blood and warming his whole body.

“It’s... fine,” he murmured, unsure what to say, fumbling with the words. But that was what he was supposes to say, wasn’t it? “It’s-“

“It’s not,” Dick snarled, body jolting around until he had to be facing him, his breath tingling Bruce’s nose. “I want to help you, I won’t study and forget about you and let you rot here with no real company aside from a few spiders and bats. It just won’t happen. I’d rather die than let you go through this alone, but... do you really need to work that hard against me? Can’t you just... try to accept my help?”

 _Dick_.

Bruce wet his lips, not feeling as if any of the words waiting in his throat were good enough. Giving it a shot anyway.

“I...” _I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I’m even more helpless than you are._

_I am helpless._

_I do need you._

Bruce let his breath out between his teeth, then inhaling, then sighing.

“Do you... remember that day a few weeks ago? The day just before... all this... happened.”

Dick didn’t say anything, but, well, how could he not remember it?

“You said I don’t have to say anything. You also said I should think about it...” His heart was almost leaping out of his chest, but he managed to go on, pulse rushing through his ears. “I was really dumb, you know. I _knew_ I wouldn’t have to think about it because the answer was always there, in broad daylight, but somehow I couldn’t really say anything... and then it was too late. It... hurts to feel, to... live, you know, it’s... _frightening_...”

Why was his tongue so heavy? Why was his throat so tight?

“I d-don’t... don’t know _how exactly_ I feel about all this but I know... I n-need you. _I need you_ , Dick. And I’m sorry that I need you, but it appears I’m weak after all.”

He couldn’t cry anymore, those mirror shards had closed that door to him. However, for once he didn’t need his eyes as his heart did all the crying for him, hot and messy and burning, while it beat in his chest.

“Needing help isn’t weak at all. It’s… smart... it’s human.”

He couldn’t feel Dick’s small smile, that smile he had always loved and that he would probably never see again.

He did feel his lips as they pressed against his own, though, soft, and light, and warm, and that was good enough for the moment.

~


End file.
